Ageing is a fountain that runs dry
Man is not whole again
In the valley of solitude, it makes him cry
Grave calling revamps nearer again

His fertile seeds were sown
In between the laps of a scannet woman
For the guise of earthly pleasure
So far was a sabtoothed treasure

Entrusted in his hands
Were Genes of Mustard seeds
To be harvested by noble men
Preparing a table amidst of great men

His primal youth is wasted
Agonies are nurtured at old age
His life was at bottom edge
To be blown off like a candle in the wind

Agonies of a Wasted Youth
Is an imagery of a dead light

#Edmavino
#TheBleedingPEn